


Wander My Own Road

by GotTheSilver



Series: Supernatural Codas [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Coming Out, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s12e06 Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox, Established Relationship, Family Issues, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 22:58:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8597074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: post 12.06*
  “How many times have you died?” Mary asks, eventually, her hand curling around the coffee mug.

  Dean exchanges a look with Sam.  “Honestly?  I’ve kind of lost count.”

  “But you came back, both of you?  How?”

  “Stupidity and luck, mostly,” Dean says.  “But hey, we’re alive now.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> title from Alice In Chains - Don't Follow because I may or may not have freaked when the opening notes of Man In A Box started playing during this episode.
> 
> [on tumblr](http://motleywolf.tumblr.com/post/153396503747/1206-coda-23k-deancas)

The fear clenching Dean’s heart lets go as soon as his mom turns down the offer Billie makes her; it was close, too close, he knows that, and he can’t bring himself to contemplate what would’ve happened if she’d said yes. He watches Mary get into her car, and presses down on the urge to demand she get in the Impala with them, it’s only the fact that Dean pretty much knows she’d ignore him that stops him doing it. Billie’s got a point about Winchesters when she looks that damn exasperated with them, he can’t deny it.

Getting into the car, Dean feels the press of his hip flask through his jacket pocket and that’s—he knows he’s been relying on it a little too much since his mom left, he’s been trying to keep it in check, but it’s all too easy to fall back on. The last time he was relying on a steady supply of alcohol like this was back when Cas went into the water, and the common theme of losing people he loves making him rely on alcohol isn’t lost on Dean.

He has issues, he knows that, but therapy doesn’t exist for people like him, and alcohol is too goddamn easy to find.

Sam’s quiet in the seat next to him, and Dean drives on to the diner a little way down the road that they passed on the way up. “Do you think dad was right?” Sam asks as they follow Mary’s car. “Stopping us from socialising with other hunters?”

“You’re asking that after one of them killed the guy’s best friend?”

“That’s not—look, we met Jesse and Cesar, and murder aside, these guys tonight seemed like solid hunters, good people. I just—” Sam breaks off and shakes his head. “I wonder how much we missed out on. Even after he died, we didn’t have a chance to know anyone.”

“We knew Bobby, we knew Ellen, we knew Rufus. We knew people.”

“Yeah, and they all had falling outs with Dad.”

Dean shoots a sideways look at Sam. “You think he kept us away from other hunters because of what he was like?”

“It’s not like he had any friends. If he had, maybe we wouldn’t have grown up in motels.”

“Sam, I—” Dean pulls the car into the lot, away from other drivers, not wanting to risk some exhausted trucker scratching up the Impala. “I don’t want to talk about dad. At all. I want to spend some time with mom before she runs again and doesn’t talk to us for weeks. I want to eat my weight in bacon, go home, call Cas, and sleep.”

Mary’s waiting for them by the entrance, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, and Dean wonders if it’s an urge to run, or if she’s feeling as unsure as he is about spending time together. Stepping forward, he holds the door open for her, pressing his lips together when she smiles at him and ducks her head as she walks inside. Dean lets go of the door before Sam can walk in, and the affronted look Sam gives him brings Dean back to himself. Grinning at Sam’s annoyed face, Dean heads towards the booth Mary’s sat at where she’s fiddling with the edge of the laminated menu, her eyes darting up and down it. She looks up as they sit down, her smile genuine but slightly nervous, as if she doesn’t know what to expect which Dean can relate to, he feels like he’s been on the edge of a cliff ever since she came back.

“So, bacon?” Dean says, grasping onto what seems like the safest topic. “And coffee. If I’m gonna drive after the night we just had, I need coffee.”

“You don’t let Sam drive?” Mary asks.

“I do,” Dean says, ignoring the look Sam shoots him. “When I need to.”

“Uh huh,” Mary says, raising an eyebrow at him. “And how often do you need to?”

“Dean doesn’t trust me with the car,” Sam says, looking over the menu.

“You let a _dog_ in her, Sam. A dog. With it’s muddy paws and hair going everywhere—”

“I thought you were dead,” Sam interrupts. “That the car was mine.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

There’s quiet after that, Mary looking a little stunned. The waitress, Kathy, comes and pours them coffee and takes their orders; Mary and Dean both getting pancakes with sides of bacon, Sam going for eggs, bacon, and hash browns.

“How many times have you died?” Mary asks, eventually, her hand curling around the coffee mug.

Dean exchanges a look with Sam. “Honestly? I’ve kind of lost count.”

“But you came back, both of you? How?”

“Stupidity and luck, mostly,” Dean says. “But hey, we’re alive now.”

Mary looks down at her mug at that, nods to herself once and takes a deep breath in before exhaling. “I don’t know what to say to you, either of you. Jody said you’re the best men she’s ever met and I’d like to get to know you.”

There’s part of Dean that wants to be stubborn, wants to metaphorically dig his heels in and point out that she had a chance to know them and she ran away. The flask in his pocket weighs heavy against him, and Dean wants to take it out and pour some in his mug, bury these feelings in the cosy comfort of whiskey. His hand twitches as he reaches for the coffee, not saying anything in response to Mary’s comment.

“We—we’d like to get to know you too, mom,” Sam says to fill the silence. “Really, we would.”

Dean tries to force a smile on his face, but he knows he fails when Mary looks away from him, and that’s—he doesn’t want to make her feel like shit, lord knows he’s done that to enough of the people he loves, but he can’t make himself get past this. He will, with time, probably, but right now he’s still got this pit in his stomach that says his mom left him _again_ , that she didn’t want to be around him because he was ruining the image she had of her perfect four year old, and that shit fucking hurt.

“How did you meet Jody?” Mary asks as the food arrives. “She, uh, doesn’t seem like she was raised in the life.”

“She wasn’t,” Sam says. “She was friends with Bobby Singer, do you—”

“I read about him in John’s diary,” Mary says. “He was a hunter?”

“Friend,” Dean says, reaching for the syrup and pouring it over his pancakes. “Family, after everything that happened.”

“Oh,” Mary says, shifting in her seat. “I’m glad you boys had someone like that.”

“Anyway,” Sam says, glancing at Dean. “Jody’s the Sheriff where Bobby lived, she found out about all this when the town got infested with zombies.”

“Zombies?”

“Not as easy to kill as the movies make it seem,” Sam says. “Uh, her son had died and he was one of the people who came back. He killed her husband. She, man, she went through the ringer but she’s survived. She’s good people, great hunter.”

“I liked her.”

Sam and Mary continue talking, and Dean hasn’t felt like this much of an outsider since high school; he wants to join in the conversation, but he doesn’t know how to do that without confirming all the things she thinks about him. There’s a buzz in his pocket and it takes him a moment to realise it’s his phone, when he pulls it out and sees Cas’ name on the screen, he excuses himself and goes outside.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Dean, I think I have a lead on Lucifer.”

“Okay,” Dean says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What is is?”

“The musician, Vince Vincente—”

“Hardly a musician.”

“Be that as it may,” Cas says, somehow managing to inject disapproval in his voice over the phone. “Lucifer’s still in that vessel, he’s planning something involving fans of Vince Vincente, and Lucifer’s plans—”

“Won’t be anything we want happening, yeah, I’m with you. Cas, we’re in Canada, so—”

“Canada? Why are you in Canada?”

Dean sighs. “Hunter died, Jody knew him, we came with her, mom showed up, a damn demon showed up, and now I’m on the phone to you.”

“Mary’s there?”

“Yeah. Turns out she saved the guy when he was a kid, told him the truth, and that set his path.”

“Where is she now?”

Pausing, Dean looks out at the still mostly empty parking lot. “Inside the diner with Sam.”

“Dean.”

“What? I was in there, I came outside to answer your call,” he says, knowing his voice is verging on defensive. Leaning against the wall of the diner, Dean tips his head back. “I can’t get past it, Cas.”

“She loves you,” Cas says. “And when she gets to know you, she’ll still love you. You’re a good man.”

“No, I’m not,” Dean says. “She said she still sees us as kids, and we—we’re not what she wanted us to turn into, she barely knows anything and she left, she’s not gonna love me when she knows everything I’ve done.”

“I know all you’ve done and I love you,” Cas says. “Just like you’ve seen all I’ve done and love me.”

“Cas, I—” Dean breaks off, sticking his hand in his pocket. “That’s different.”

“How?”

“I don’t know,” Dean says. “It just is.”

“Your stubbornness is one of your less appealing qualities.”

“That’s a lie,” Dean says, a smile creeping onto his face. “You love my stubbornness.”

“We’ve drifted very far from the reason for my call.”

“Yeah. So, Lucifer? Can you wait for us to get back?”

“Of course, Dean. Go back inside and see your mother.”

Dean makes a face even though Cas can’t see him, and kicks at the gravel on the ground. “Okay,” Dean says. “I’ll call when we’re on the road.”

“Goodbye, Dean.” With that, Cas ends the call and Dean’s left with silence on the other end of the line. Putting his phone away, Dean glances over at the Impala and wonders if he can go and hide in there until it’s time to leave. Shaking his head, he turns and walks back inside the diner; sitting down, he’s happy to see his coffee has been topped up and is a little more than lukewarm.

“Cas?” Sam asks as Dean finishes up the pancakes he left behind when he went outside.

“Yeah,” Dean says around the mouthful. “Lead on Lucifer, we’re gonna have to head back when we’re done here.”

“How is he?” Mary asks. “Castiel, not, uh, the devil.”

“Cas is fine,” Dean says. Mary visibly recoils at the short reply and Dean winces. “I mean, he’s always fine. He’s looking for Lucifer, but he stays in touch.”

“You worry about him,” Mary says. “Even though he’s an angel.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t stop worrying about people you love just because they can take care of themselves.”

Sam starts choking on the mouthful of coffee he has, and Dean shoots him a look before he realises what he said, and— _fuck_. He doesn’t dare look at Mary because even if he tried to pass it off as nothing more than loving Cas in a friend kind of way, Sam’s reaction just shot that all to hell. She’s definitely going to hate him now, Dean’s sure that whatever she wanted for their future back when they were kids, it didn’t involve her son being involved with a dude, let alone an angel.

“Dean,” Mary says softly, reaching across the table to touch his hand. “It’s okay.”

“I—” Dean shakes his head, still not looking at her. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” she says sharply. “Don’t apologise for that, please. I know that I—I haven’t said what I should to you boys, both of you, and I’m so sorry for that. I love you both, I do. Jody was right in what she told me about you, and I can see that. You did so well tonight, and I’m sorry if I made you feel that I wouldn’t accept you as you are.”

“Mom,” Sam says. “We know it’s been tough for—”

“No,” Mary says, squeezing Dean’s fingers. “I mean, yes it is tough, but you’re my sons, and I should’ve let you know that whatever you’ve done, whoever you love, how you’ve spent your lives, none of that changes the fact that I love you.”

Dean swallows around the lump in his throat and looks up to see his mom staring at him. “Love you too, mom.”

“Yeah,” Sam says. “You take as much time as you need, we’re always gonna be here, you’re always gonna be able to come home.”

“Thank you,” Mary says, squeezing Dean’s hand one last time before letting go. “Now, I think you have to pick up Jody and help save the world again, and I—I still have some work to do on my own.”

Dean throws some money down on the table before they head outside; pausing by Mary’s car, he hugs her, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, taking comfort in the way she holds onto him as tightly as he’s holding onto her. “Thanks,” he says quietly against her head. “For not—about Cas.”

“You’re my son,” she says. “Always.”

“Stay in touch, okay? Let us know you’re doing good?”

“Promise.”

Stepping back, Dean lets Sam say his own goodbye before they watch her drive away, the car quickly fading into the distance because, damn, she drives just like Dean does. “She’ll be okay,” Sam says as they walk towards the Impala. “And she’ll come home.”

“Yeah,” Dean says as he opens the car door, feeling a little lighter than he has done since she came back. “I think she will.”


End file.
